


Years Upon Years Upon Years

by AbandonedGhost



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Canon Compliant, Crying, Dialogue Heavy, Drabble, Feels, First Kiss, Fluff, Gay, Gay Panic, Implied Sexual Content, Kissing, Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Making Out, Mushy, Other, Touch-Starved, Touching, Touchy-Feely
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-10-09 05:34:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20514401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbandonedGhost/pseuds/AbandonedGhost
Summary: "You can stay at mine... if you like," Crowley offered to his dear friend who had nowhere to go.And as the two boarded the bus, it was obvious the demon and the angel hadn't PLANNED for what was going to happen the rest of that evening, but happen it did.





	Years Upon Years Upon Years

**Years Upon Years Upon Years**

**And how the snake so desperately wished to be the glass pressed against his angel's lips.**

  
  


* * *

  
  


"I believe we deserve more to drink. Don't  _ you _ , Angel?" Crowley sauntered over to his liquor cabinet - though to be honest,  _ all  _ of his cabinets were liquor cabinets. The demon didn't desire food but he had quite a taste for intoxicants.

The pair had just arrived, a decent amount of wine already sloshing in their human bodies. The events of the day had left them swimming in a sea of mixed emotions. Earth and all humanity had been protected  _ for now _ but they knew it was a matter of time before Heaven and Hell would pursue their revenge on them for essentially cancelling The War. And plotting to do so from the very beginning, mind you. 

"I suppose we do," replied Aziraphale as he fidgeted near the doorway, uncomfortable and nervous, with his hands clasped together at his middle. "You know… I really don't want to impose, Crowley."

A dismissive wave of his hand as he said, "Don't be so stiff. We just stopped an apocalypse. Here…" Crowley handed a topped off glass of scotch to his companion. "Drink up." 

Their fingers brushed as the angel accepted the glass and Crowley's stomach ached with desire for  _ more touching than that.  _ But the demon was accustomed to the pangs of want after six thousand years of it. This was just another evening he was going to spend wallowing in it - the only difference being the ethereal creature was  _ staying in his damn flat all night.  _

Sucking in a sharp breath, Crowley took a long swig of his scotch, dreading how long said evening was about to be. 

The pining Hellion studied his friend's careful movements. Aziraphale drank slowly from the glass, not swigging it back in the way that Crowley did. And how the snake so desperately wished to be that glass pressed against His Angel's lips. 

Downed his drink completely and immediately, then poured himself a second helping. Drowning in scotch - his primary activity of choice. 

"I can't believe they're all…  _ gone _ ," a forlorn whisper slipped from Aziraphale. The cup in his hands was held up to his lips but he didn't take another sip.

"What?" Cocking his head, Crowley turned to his companion, not immediately comprehending.

"They're gone," taking a large sip from his glass. "The books. The whole shop." Quivering voice, "I'm… awfully thankful the world didn't end. But frankly, that little cluttered bookshop  _ was  _ my world." 

Weakly, the snake set his glass down on the countertop. His Angel was suddenly so upset - he sounded heartbroken. It tore at Crowley from the inside out, causing him to shudder. When His Angel hurt, he hurt too. Felt worse than Falling. Would Fall a hundred more times to prevent the blond from experiencing misery ever again. 

Slowly, he made his way closer to his partner, the gap between them shrank. Before he realized what he was doing in his drunken state, Crowley's thumb was tenderly trailing up the curve of Aziraphale's cheek as he caught a lone tear that had silently made its way there. It happened so quickly. An act of affection neither of them had crossed the line to perform before. 

Too fast. What if he went too fast? Crowley panicked. Hesitantly, he pulled his hand away. Too late to undo what just happened but hoping he didn’t freak His Angel out. At least not too much. Stiffening, he braced for his ethereal friend’s reaction.

The gesture surprised Aziraphale but he didn't flinch or move away. Stood there still, glass in one hand, frozen in place as he let himself process what was happening. Swallowing hard, full of nerves, he looked up at the Hellion, wishing those shades of his weren't there to shield his eyes from him. 

He loved Crowley's golden eyes and detested that they were always covered.

Studying each other's faces in the dim lighting of the kitchen now, they both sensed the change in the atmosphere between them. The excitement and drama of the day's events, the alcohol, the exhaustion of losing things they cherished, the giddiness of saving humanity, the panic, the fear of what would happen now - it all had been building up and it was like a switch had been flicked. Dawned on them both that anything was possible now. Time to be real, to be honest and open. And they knew it. 

"I'm so sorry, Angel. I know it wasn't just your shop, it was your entire collection. I'm sorry." Sympathy dripped from every word he spoke softly to his companion. "I thought I felt miserable losing The Bentley, and I am, but… it's a whole different thing, with your books. So many books. I don't read. Fuck, I'll never read. But I saw how you looked at those books." He wished His Angel looked at him the way he looked at his books. "Terrible thing to happen."

Finally releasing his gaze from Crowley's face, Aziraphale looked at his glass and uncharacteristically shot down the rest of it - wincing a little as he swallowed. Then stepped closer to his friend - so close they were  _ almost  _ pressed against each other. 

Crowley gulped and tried to hold in a gasp that built in his throat afterwards so Aziraphale wouldn't hear his clear  _ panic _ . So close. They could touch. They could… kiss. The wonderful scent of His Angel filled his senses - old books, hot cocoa. Familiar. Warm. Sweet. 

Aziraphale reached aside, sliding the glass he held onto the countertop, but kept his proximity to his partner. Acting as if a sudden movement would startle them both and ruin everything, he moved slowly. Could  _ feel _ Crowley's eyes on him for every moment of it though they were still hidden away.

"It could have been worse, I suppose," Angel finally responded, softness in his tone equal to how the demon's had been. "Could have lost  _ everything. _ " Emphasizing the last word, he made sure to stare hard at Crowley. Wanting him to listen, to see, to  _ understand. _

"There are more important things than books." Books aside, didn't the stupid demon notice the way he surely looked at  _ him _ ?

Again, Crowley swallowed hard. Throat felt dry. Stomach seemed to vibrate with raw anxiety. Having His Angel this close to him was terrifying, and  _ wonderful _ , and  _ terrifying.  _

"That's right," he said, trying (and failing, probably) to keep calm. "And there are more important things than an old Bentley." Though, damn, he was pissed about his Bentley.

The blond one smiled sadly, gave a little sigh, wanting to hold onto his bravery while he had it. While he was riding the high of saving the world on top of the alcohol coursing through his system. Reaching up to Crowley's face, he tipped the sunglasses up so they sat on the crown of his head instead of hiding his vibrant eyes. And Crowley let him. As unsettling as it was for him to feel so vulnerable, he let him. Because he trusted him. 

Wholeheartedly Aziraphale confessed, "I wanted to say yes, you know. I wanted to  _ so _ desperately, Dear."

Heart hammering, half wondering if he heard what he thought he did, the demon asked, "Say yes to what?" The pair were still only inches apart. Not breaking away from the contact of each other's eyes now.

"Alpha Centauri." Aziraphale smiled warmly. "Running off. With  _ you _ ."

Not something he had expected to hear. Not tonight, or ever, really. "You... wanted to?"

Momentarily squeezing his eyes shut, the celestial being tried not to groan in anxiety that was bubbling up inside him. He was ready to be honest with Crowley,  _ finally _ , about his true feelings. He knew it was time; that he was ready. For so many centuries the demon had looked at him in ways that Aziraphale recognized as pure longing, and it broke his heart to have to ignore it. To pretend it wasn't happening for the sake of their safety. Because, Lord, he was full of that same longing as well. Could choke on his feelings of adoration for him.

"Of  _ course _ I wanted to." Desperate and aching. "Crowley," a whisper before he placed one of his hands on the redhead's upper arm. 

Beneath the angel's gentle touch the snake trembled from both blinding fear and agonizing desire.

A sweet smile spread on Aziraphale's lips as he continued, "Crowley, Dear, don't think I haven't noticed all the things you've done for me." Eyes welled and sparkled with tears. Eons had gone by with him wishing just once he could properly tell him that he  _ saw  _ him; the efforts he made, the things he said with his actions. Aziraphale saw it  _ all  _ and knew it and held it in his thoughts when he was anxious or upset. But he could never properly tell Crowley what all those moments meant for him. Too dangerous. Too much. Too fast. Too… scary.

Heat crept up to the Hellion's cheeks. Usually full of quick wit, the redhead was completely tongue tied as he looked into those honest and emotional eyes boring into his demonic soul. 

With a feather-like touch, Aziraphale tenderly stroked his thumb against Crowley's upper arm in a gesture of comfort and assurance. "I am absolutely disgusted and horrified by how many times I know I have hurt you; how many times I have pushed you away. I just… I couldn't. We couldn't. But I promise you, My Dear, I wanted to. I always wanted to." 

Giving his arm a squeeze now, he added, "I'm terribly sorry. For every time I cast you aside or said what I didn't mean. Please know I'm so sorry."

Silent, sneaky tears that he didn't know he had slid down Crowley's face now as his pulse raced so wildly he feared for the health of his human body. Looking away from His Angel, he tried to think of  _ something _ to say. Pitifully wiped at his red face with his sleeve - as if it wasn't too late to hide the evidence he'd been  _ feeling _ something. But these words spilling from his best friend's lips were almost too much for him. After  _ years upon years upon years;  _ especially such a raw apology. Crowley's heart both bloomed with fullness and seared heavy with pain.

"Angel…" he croaked. Eyes met again. Crowley couldn't stop his flow of tears, so he just let them go as he asked a soft, "Why now?"

Aziraphale grabbed both of the redhead's shoulders. Serious about trying to get his point across. Finally being genuine. "Because they don't scare me anymore! There  _ will be no War. _ " A pause. "Even if there was, the only side I would care to be on is  _ ours _ . You matter more than Heaven to me, Crowley." Swallowing hard, his mouth felt dry at the confession that escaped him. "After everything that's happened lately, I feel like I'm not sure about as much as I used to be. God and life and humanity and all. But I'm certain about  _ that.  _ I'm certain about  _ you. _ " 

Breath catching in his throat, the snake almost  _ convulsed  _ in the wave of emotion he was riding after everything he was just told. Crying was completely unstoppable now; a weak sob escaped him. Unable to properly speak, reached out and pulled His Angel close to him, hugging him flush against his body.

Winding his arms around him in response, Aziraphale leaned into his occult companion, wanting to absorb all the sadness and regret he felt coming off him in waves. Crowley was too  _ good _ to ever have deserved Falling, to ever have deserved all the many centuries in Hell he's existed. And it broke Aziraphale's heart at the injustice. It broke his heart that he used to so blindly believe in it. 

With hesitancy, Crowley drew his head back from the embrace. He studied His Angel in front of him - beautiful and sweet and warm and close - as his ethereal friend looked back at him expectantly. 

It was then in that moment that they both knew for sure;  _ this was it. If it didn't happen now, it never would. _

Only a second passed before their lips came together. Though the pair had seen the creation of Earth, the universe, the stars -  _ this  _ was the most incredible moment to them in all of the history of existence and time itself.  _ This. _ Like everything that ever happened in the history of existence was designed to lead them to each other, in this  _ ineffable _ way.

Melting into each other, their mouths danced. Soft kisses morphed into more aggressive ones, all the lost time catching up to them in an instant. Had to make up for all the could-have-been moments they never had the chance to have.

Crowley gently guided his partner to the counter beside them where he pressed him up against it; simultaneously trailing one of his hands up His Angel's body until it was tenderly cupping his cheek. Aziraphale covered his hand over Crowley's and looked into his eyes once again. 

"Angel," started the demon with a hoarse whisper. Still in disbelief at absolutely everything that was happening. Tears stained his cheeks. So,  _ so long _ he waited in agony for this -  _ this  _ \- that he thought would never happen. "Angel, I love you. I've loved you since before everything and my Fallen soul will continue to love you after everything. There might not be a War, but they're gonna come after us, you know. We are in trouble. Big trouble. So whatever happens, you need to hear from me now that,  _ fuck _ , I love you." 

Failed to stifle a sob. He hated looking weak but he couldn't keep up the charade of being tough, or being evil. Or the charade of giving a single shit about what happens in Hell. Couldn't keep up the charade of not being  _ pathetically  _ in love with His Angel anymore, either. Done he was with the bloody lies, the hiding, the faking, the deceit - all of it.

Squeezing his hand and planting a kiss on his palm, Aziraphale just wanted to comfort the demon who was clearly in emotional turmoil. "And I love  _ you _ , Dear. It's alright. We will figure it all out. It'll be alright," he mumbled against the hand that cupped his face. "Whatever might happen." 

A beat of silence passed and then their mouths were on each other's again. Hands roamed through hair. Hips rubbed against hips. Thighs wove together. Hearts pounded in unison between softly spoken  _ I love you _ 's 

Making their way to the bed after the kitchen counter became stale for them, the pair started shredding accessories and pieces of clothing off each other with reckless abandon. Only breaking their kisses when they absolutely had to, of course. 

Once the duo hit the bed, Crowley wanted to laugh. He couldn't _believe _that all of this was _actually fucking real. _Truthfully, he questioned if it actually was. Bizarre and almost unfathomable to him after all the endless hours and days and months and years and decades and _centuries _of pure infatuation bordering on obsession. Then today it all happened at once, in a matter of forty-five minutes or so. Just. _Well. This is a thing now. _

"Everything alright?" Questioned a concerned angel. 

"Mm. Tickety-boo," teased Crowley in response, his fingers trailing down Aziraphale's back (only clad in an undershirt now) as they faced each other in bed.

Angel smirked at his partner then leaned in to kiss him again, very gingerly this time. Warmth washed over them both. Nothing made as much sense as this did, now that they were doing it. Felt natural and safe. Regretting how much time they wasted  _ not _ being together  _ like this. _

And if there was any question about what was to happen next, it was answered in the way they found themselves gazing at each other. A thirst that couldn't be quenched for hundreds of years and now the universe was offering them an endless fountain. 

Remaining clothes came off regardless of their jittering nerves. Lips and hands roamed freely over each other, exploring and claiming. 

The pair utilized their human bodies to express their love and desire in the most raw and genuine way they were able, how the couple always wanted to but never imagined they ever  _ actually would _ . Tonight they ignored their sides and their pasts. Feeling as though they were part of humanity; expressing affection in a way their angel and demon crowds simply did not. This just enhanced their feelings - doing things  _ their  _ way because they were on  _ their  _ side - not answering to anyone but their own hearts, their own wants and desires. Heaven and Hell did not exist or matter anymore. Not to them. 

Chests heaved as they caught their breath afterwards. A mess of sheets and legs all tangled together. Crowley's head rest on His Angel's chest; their arms wound around each other. Aziraphale's fingers laced through the demon's silky copper hair. 

"Angel?" Whispering a question against bare skin after several minutes of comfortable silence.

"What is it, Dear?" Fingers ran from the locks of hair to the nape of his neck affectionately. 

Aching with overwhelming emotions. A heartbeat thrummed beneath the chest Crowley lay against. The demon just listened to it for a moment before replying. Never thought he'd end up here. Thought about it for longer than he could articulate of course, but he never really believed it to be a thing that could happen. Yet here he was. 

This all happening made the future look more dangerous though… because now he had something to lose. And he knew they were wanted by their superiors. They, frankly, were fucked. Thousands of years of  _ wanting _ and he finally got it; but it was at risk of being taken away immediately. The thought broke him, made him hopeless. Not that he was used to feeling much hope anyway, being a demon and all, but this was different. This was more terrifying than what he faced in the pits of Hell itself. 

"We have to think of something…" he finally mumbled. "They're gonna come after us." Groaning in frustration, he buried his head further against Aziraphale. "The lot should just get over it and bugger off."

The angel stopped tracing along Crowley's skin. "Actually, I think I may have an idea." Adjusted himself so he was facing his partner now, a serious look in his eyes. "You know the prophecy I mentioned?  _ Choose Your Faces Wisely _ ?" 

"I'm listening," he egged on, intrigued. 

But Crowley knew without a doubt that  _ whatever  _ ridiculous idea His Angel was about to suggest, he would agree to wholeheartedly. Would take any chance he had, at saving this, at prolonging any and all of the time he had left with His Angel on Earth. It was unknown what was going to happen now that the apocalypse didn’t happen and The War never started. But what he  _ did _ know was that he wanted  _ this _ for too long to just accept it being cut short. He would literally fight God and Satan for Aziraphale and he would follow His Angel wherever he wanted him to go; do whatever he wanted to make him happy.

Starting with this idea he had.

  
And they'd go and figure it out from there. As a team. Because they were on  _ their  _ side. 

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a simple warm-up drabble and turned into something I actually decided to post. Probably one of the mushiest things I have ever ended up with.
> 
> Find me on Tumblr/Twitter/IG/etc as ROSERIKU ! 
> 
> Thanks for reading, my angels!


End file.
